


Ineffability

by WolfInTheShadows



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-23 17:00:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20011735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfInTheShadows/pseuds/WolfInTheShadows
Summary: God, the Almighty, herself has a little talk with Crowley about Aziraphale, the past and love.





	Ineffability

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at about 4 in the morning when my mind insisted upon me writing this out instead of sending me to sleep. I hope it's not awfully noticable.

Crowley was laying in his bed on his side contemplating the events and what they possibly meant for him. For them.

He thought of Aziraphale, beautiful, good-natured Aziraphale, his angel. Maybe now they had a chance...

No. Crowley growled into his pillows. No. It was something that couldn't be. He was a demon and Aziraphale was an angel, a principality of heaven at that.

Gabriel and his posse should treat their superior with a bit more respect than they did. He had definitely enjoyed spitting hellfire at them. Maybe a little too much. But seeing the fear on their faces when they realized that their plan didn't work was too good to pass up.

His heart ached for Aziraphale. No one in heaven seemed to treat his poor angel with respect. No one at all...

Crowley screwed his eyes shut. He felt the tears building up behind them. Demons were not supposed to cry. But he had cried before...

For the children the Almighty had drowned in the flood, for Jesus, the son of God, who just wanted people to be kind to each other.

Aziraphale and he had cried in each other's arms for the lives lost. The injustice of it all. They never spoke of those moments between them. But Aziraphale had always been his constant reminder that there was still a world worth living for.

And he had wept when he thought that they had taken Aziraphale from him. All his emotions had crashed around him. His will to fight, to go on living, had vanished. He knew that if he still had had the holy water, he would've done something really foolish. So he had just decided to wait for Hell to find him and face his punishment for consorting with the enemy and killing a demon, or the end of the world, whichever came first. He had only hoped that he would be killed quickly.

And then Aziraphale had appeared in front of him and he had hope again. Hope to be able to see his angel again. They just had to avert Armageddon. And they did by some miracle.

But the aftermath was gruesome; Crowley thanked whatever forces made that one prophesy fall out of Agnes Nutter's book. Without it Aziraphale and he would've been destroyed.

Oh, how he hated the archangels and their holier than thou attitude. Gabriel had probably just ambitions to rise in rank. He was most likely jealous of Aziraphale and his freedom. And wasn't jealousy on of the deadly sins anyway?

No matter, he could've lost Aziraphale. His clever and brave Aziraphale.

And he hadn't even told him about all these feelings he had for him. Something deep, deep down inside of him. Something he only knew from a time long, long ago. A time before his fall. Demons were definitely not supposed to have feelings like that. That was against their very nature.

Nevertheless, here he was, crying about something that could never be. Regardless, if they were on their own side now or not.

"Crowley?" He heard his name being spoken. In a voice like thousands upon thousands of angel choirs. He knew that voice. And he also knew that he should be very afraid right now. For the Almighty never spoke to demons.

He sat up in his bed and was illuminated by a holy light. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that he should be dead by now. Demonkind and the holy light of the Almighty never ended well for the demon.

"Yes, your Holiness?" He answered with fear in his voice.

"Why are you crying, Crowley? You should be celebrating. You have everything you wanted. Why are you so sad?" The voice made him want to cover his ears. There was a reason the Almighty seldom spoke to anyone directly.

Crowley wanted to deflect, to lie, to say it were tears of joy. But this was the Almighty he was conversing with. She would know his lies.

"Because I don't have everything I want." Crowley felt anger rising in his chest. Anger against Heaven and how they had treated Aziraphale.

The Almighty seemed to ponder that for a moment. "What is it that you desire, Crowley?"

Crowley was taken aback. What was it that he desired? Right now, he desired to punch Gabriel in the face and wipe that stupid grin off his face for everything he did to Aziraphale. And then he'd fight his way through the other smug faced archangels. Crowley ginned diabolically.

"Be assured, they will be dealt with for what they did. They had no right to do what they did." Was that just a hint of contempt in the voice of the Almighty? Crowley didn't dwell on it too much.

"Good. I hope they have to clean dirty loos and spit pots for all eternity for what they did to him." Crowley grumbled. "He is more heavenly than all of them together." He sighed. "He is so full of goodness, so optimistic, always warm and welcoming to humans that need help. He's just so... so... kind." The tears were back on Crowley's face again. And in that moment, he stopped to care for whom he was talking to. The dam on his emotions had broken. "He is so kind. Even to me. A demon. The demon that is responsible for the humans' banishment from the garden. He sheltered me with his wing the first time he met me, you know?"

If the blood hadn't been rushing in his ears so loudly, he would've heard a soft _Oh..._ from the Almighty. But so he just continued uninterrupted.

"How was I not supposed to love that angel that embodied all that I ever had thought Heaven stood for. And I'm a demon that should be incapable of love. And Aziraphale will never know how much I care about him. What I would do for him." Crowley let his head fall into his hands and sobbed. "I just want him to know just how much he means to me and that I would never treat him like his supposed _friends_ did."

"Then why don't you tell him?"

Crowley looked up into the light. "Because I'm a demon and he's an angel. We're hereditary enemies. We're not supposed to be even friendly with each other."

The Almighty looked down on Crowley with empathy. "I'm so sorry, Crowley. But we haven't been honest with you all those years ago. You didn't fall because you asked too many questions or because you consorted with the wrong people."

"Then why did I fall?" The anger was rising again amidst confusion.

"You fell for Aziraphale. He needed someone that thought for themselves. You were never a _full_ demon in a sense. Your purpose was always, since the beginning to have free will. To challenge beliefs. And it all worked out well in the end, wouldn't you say?"

Revelation dawned on Crowley. He finally began to understand why he felt like an outcast in Hell. Why he didn't lick up everything Beelzebub said. Why he wasn't a tool, a mere drone like Hastur and Ligur and all the other demons. They said he'd gone native, but he had always been fond of the Earth since the beginning. And maybe it hadn't just to do with the humans, maybe it was because Aziraphale had been there.

"But Aziraphale is still an angel. A principality. You can hardly approve of that?" He gestured wildly with his arms. "Of a demon just coming in and wanting to be in a... a... a relationship with one of your angels."

"That is the point, isn't it? Aziraphale is a principality. He is something to look towards to see how it should be. He embodies Heavens ideals. With his love and compassion for every living creature great or small."

"But I'm a demon..."

"That's exactly what I'm trying to say. Didn't my son say to love your enemy? Aziraphale needs you. He needs you to show him compassion and that he is loved. He has always needed you."

"Then why did I need to fall?"

"Don't you see? Think about what would have happened to Aziraphale if he had only been surrounded by angels for all these years. He has become stronger because of your demonic influences. He has realized his potential."

Crowley had flashbacks to all those times with Aziraphale. How insecure he had been in the Garden and how much confidence he had gained throughout the millennia.

"That was because of me?" He asked disbelievingly into the room.

"Of course. You gave him the confidence to be who he wanted to be. And he turned out really well. You both did. It's all quite..."

"Oh, please. Please don't say it." Crowley pleaded.

"...ineffable."

And the light left his bedroom in the same moment the door of it sprung open.

Aziraphale stormed into the room brandishing a spray bottle with a clear liquid inside in his left hand and a poker in his right. "Whoever you are demons or angels I command thee to leave!" He roared into the darkness of the room.

"It's just me, Angel." Crowley smiled a little. "Please don't tell me that is holy water in there..."

Aziraphale looked at the spray bottle guiltily. "Oh no... I hope not. At least I don't think so. Unless you have put that in there."

"Definitely not." His confusion got the better of him. He was exhausted from his little talk with the Almighty. "Anyway, what are you even doing here?"

Aziraphale let his weapons sink. "I just felt a holiness filling the air. A really strong one. And I just thought that Heaven was coming to get you. I couldn't just let them get away with it, now could I?"

Crowley looked at Aziraphale for a few moments without any discernable expression and then he started to laugh. A deep and rich, true laugh because he was happy and everything this evening was just so absurd.

It was contagious because soon Aziraphale was also giggling and then dropped his armament to the floor and sat on the end of the bed and laughed with Crowley.

"You really thought you would stand a chance against whoever was possibly abduct me with a spray bottle and a poker? Really?" Crowley asked between two breaths after he had calmed down a bit.

"It was quite inadequate, wasn't it?"

"Oh, Aziraphale, look at me." Crowley demanded when he saw how his angel drew back into himself again. Slowly Aziraphale turned and raised his eyes to look at Crowley.

"You don't need to save me."

"But..." Aziraphale was silenced by Crowley scooting closer to him.

"Because you already did save me." He whispered, scooting even closer to his angel.

"Yes, but I still don't trust them to not try another time." Aziraphale whispered. This was such a moment in which anything else than a whisper was utterly inappropriate.

"Not recently. You saved me 6000 years ago."

"I-I did?" Aziraphale was confused. And a bit unsettled by the closeness of Crowley and the intimacy of the moment. He turned a bit more so he could sit more comfortably facing Crowley. "How?"

"With your kindness and compassion."

Aziraphale searched Crowley's eyes for a clue as to what he wanted to say, but what he found was only... love.

He touched the demon's cheek with his hand. Crowley closed his eyes and fell into the touch.

"Are you trying to say what I think you're trying to say? Because if you aren't, I think..." He trailed off. He didn't really know what to say.

Crowley opened his eyes and looked deeply into Aziraphale's. "What I'm saying is that... I fell in love with you, my angel."

Aziraphale gasped. Flashes of the past assaulting him. The building of the ark, the crucifixion, Hamlet, France 1793, his books in the church, Crowley trying to get him to run away together, Crowley crying after the bookshop had burned down and he had discorporated.

In hindsight, it was so obvious. Why hadn't he seen it earlier?

"Oh, I'm so sorry, dear. I should've seen it." Crowley was so vulnerable in that moment. Aziraphale's heart broke for him. In that moment everything became clear to him.

He did truly love the demon in front of him. All the moments led to here, to this moment. "I love you, too. More than anything in this universe." Aziraphale rested his forehead against Crowley's. They swayed a little back and forth, looking into each other's eyes and basking in their love for each other.

After a long while Aziraphale whispered to Crowley. "What was that holiness that I sensed?"

Crowley smiled one of his cryptic little smiles. "Your top level wanted to have a chat with me."

"You... no... not the..."

"Yes, the Almighty."

"I think you mean the Metatron spoke with you." Aziraphale leant back slightly.

"No, I mean it. Her Holiness the Almighty herself."

"What did She want? And why are you not dead?" The angel looked Crowley over.

"I'm afraid that is between her and me. Sorry, Angel."

Aziraphale nodded. He understood. He didn't like it, but he understood. "It's all part of the Great Plan, after all."

Crowley smiled. "One could even go as far as to say that it's all part of the... Ineffable Plan."

And God smiled. They finally got what the Ineffable Plan was all about, even if they didn't understand it.


End file.
